


The Other Tally

by raven_aorla



Series: Made to Measure [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood Loss, Canon-Typical Self-Harm, Canonical Villainy, Evil Has Loved Ones, Fluff, Found Family, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Queer Assassins, Season 1 Compliant, Voluntary Indentured Servitude, blood transfusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: Zsasz gets hurt and staggers home, where all will be well.[Can be read as an independent one-shot.]





	The Other Tally

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a few things:
> 
> 1\. We see Zsasz cut a tally mark on his body directly after a kill only once. As the show progresses, we don't see him do it again. I doubt he's stopped keeping score in that way, since it's so important to his character's mythology, so why? (in a Death of the Author tradition, I'm ignoring that maybe writers forgot)
> 
> 2\. [In this clip, when Zsasz comes to rescue Penguin from Fish (haha), starting at 1:05](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fd-0AJ0VgQQ) Butch shoots one of the Zsaszettes. Most bad guys would keep going. Minions are minions, especially when the enemy is escaping and you need to hurry. But no, the other two women and Zsasz are shocked, and it's not a professional pride thing. Zsasz kneels down to check if she's dead, and looks upset rather than his usual "comedic sociopathy", as TV Tropes would put it. Then, only then, does he lead the pursuit.
> 
> 3\. From that same clip: "What do you think, girls, should we kill him? Or take him home to play with?" They all live together, clearly. 
> 
> 4\. In a different episode, he has male henchpeople, too. Do they ALSO live with him?
> 
> This happened as a result. I know full well it could only possibly work with Gotham Zsasz, and that Comics Zsasz would be baffled and angry, haha.

Victor Zsasz’s hands shake a little as he punches the code to deactivate the potentially deadly security system. He opens the door and steps over the threshold, closes the door behind him, and sinks to his knees.

Yoona’s comes to greet him. She’s dressed in simple, comfy home clothes, not the dominatrix-esque outfits she and the other female field assistants wear on the job. She doesn’t show visual signs of distress, as she shows few emotions on her face other than raising her one unshaven eyebrow, but she yells, “DOC! VIC’S HURT!”

“I think I need more blood,” Zsasz informs her matter-of-factly. He considers sinking all the way down into the embrace of the large, easily washable rubber mat that everyone has to stand on until they’ve stripped and scrubbed off the worst of the blood. Other people’s blood. That’s how it goes, ideally, but not always. 

Doc is there quickly, and Yoona helps her get him into the collapsible wheelchair and into the home medbay. Zsasz is grateful that a disillusioned former combat medic fell in love with one of his own. It had been tiresome dealing with mob doctors. “Bullet grazed my calf, nothing major. Tied a rag around the outside of my pant leg to keep pressure.”

“Want a painkiller?” Doc asks, stripping off his pants. In the absence of a real nurse, she’s taught every single other member of the household how to lend her a hand in situations like these. 

Yoona snorts. “He never wants one, Kali. Our fearless twisted masochist.” She pats Zsasz's hand. He grins dopily up at her. It’s not fun in the way marking himself is fun, or the way a playmate being inventively rough is fun, but it's not the kind of sensation he hates, either. Like being burned, for example; he dislikes that very much. The moment of the bullet hitting him hadn't been great, though he'd pushed through. But there’s a deliciousness to the aftereffects of the injury beyond the sour bite. Like eating a raw lemon. 

“It’s my duty to ask,” Doc replies demurely. “It didn’t hit a major artery, otherwise you would have never managed to drive all the way from the commercial district and stumble your way from the car. How long ago were you shot?”

“Bout forty-five minutes. Had to finish the job, y’know?”

“Candy offered to go as backup,” Yoona chides. It's almost always the Zsaszettes who accompany Zsasz. The guys only help out in an emergency and mostly do their own contracts. Unlike with the four women, Zsasz charges them rent. 

Zsasz stares up, wishing Doc didn’t need bright light to do her thing. “I thought it was gonna be straightforward, but noooooo, Jim Gordon doesn’t turn a blind eye to things that don’t concern him. I mean, I admire the moxie, but sometimes it’s a real pain in the...leg. Candy needed to go get more groceries anyway. I swear that Teeth drinks all the milk when we’re not looking. If he took some of that Viper stuff - remember that? - it’d take us ages to notice. I'll have to go drinking other people's milk!” Contrary to many people's expectations, Teeth doesn't collect teeth - too incriminating, and it'd be irritating to all the local animists/shaminists/voudon practitioners who don't like getting lumped in with killers. He just has really great teeth of his own. As a whole he looks like such a Aryan dream that Zsasz flat-out checked for affiliations before letting him join up. That wouldn't fly even as a Zsasz Family Friend. Too awkward. 

“He’s babbling. Mild shock. Go fetch one of the blood bags that’s labeled AB.” Meanwhile, Doc takes out all her necessary implements. Zsasz can’t remember what they are. He definitely feels lightheaded, so maybe Doc is right. 

For discretion and convenience, Doc's set up a donation system among the current members of their merry little band. There are seven, which means not everyone gets their own bedroom. Well, eight if you count the puppy, which Doc does. She keeps an eye on the puppy whenever everyone else is busy and leaves the two of them home alone. 

By the way, this doesn’t mean they’re constantly getting shot on the job. Most jobs, none of them gets significantly wounded at all. It’s just that they all have such a work ethic and are so popular that the law of averages means someone’s gonna bleed eventually. 

Efficiently hooking up her patient, as always, Doc quickly stitches the wound and is soon making him hydrate and asking how long it’s been since he’s eaten and fussy questions like that. He answers, to not upset her. “When can I add to the tally?” 

Ever since Doc treated him for a careless infection to one of his new tally marks, she prefers that he wait until he gets home and she can hand him a sterilized knife. Doc has no romantic or sexual interest in him - unlike Yoona, who Doc is willing to share - so Zsasz can’t charm his way out of a scolding every time he ignores the rule. Doc gets away with a lot due to being so good at what she does and difficult to replace. Besides, everyone thinks she’s adorable except for the fussy part. She can be intimidating when she yells at them and it morphs into Bengali.

She frowns and drums her deft, dark fingers on the table. “How many did you end up killing?”

“Two. There were one target, who I bumped off fine, and his bodyguard was in the way.” 

“You may cut yourself in twenty-four hours.”

“Really?” Gah, he’ll be craving it all that time, including in his _sleep._

Her face is impassive.

Yoona shrugs. “The puppy made lasagna, salad, and chocolate chip cookies. When you’re done in here, want some?”

“Sure. Where is he? I need to talk to him about Jesús taking him on an excursion tomorrow in the slums.” Zsasz had many good reasons for bringing in Jesús but a tiny, tiny one was the irony of an assassin with that name, Spanish pronunciation notwithstanding. Jesús has awful teeth but is the best of the Family at kicking down doors.

Shortly after Zsasz extorted this nice big house on a nice big isolated piece of land that's not too far from the city, young wannabes started asking if they could stay awhile with his crew and learn tricks of the trade. Eventually Zsasz picked out a promising kid - metaphorically, the kid was over 18, he checked - and offered free training, food, healthcare, access to everything except unauthorized weapons and the special sub-basement, and a former walk-in closet as a private space. This would be in exchange for a set number of years of unpaid servitude. The rest of the household approved. 

However, not long after the kid moved in, the ladies sat Zsasz down and explained to him why they weren’t fond of him referring to the kid as “our bitch”, and suggested an alternative for emphasizing the kid’s status. The more neutral nickname “the puppy” was born. 

There's been a mix of genders. All adults, though still at the very beginnings of their careers. This green-eyed not-quite-monster is gawky (in a cute way, genuinely like a stray puppy) and bad at ironing, but a decent cook. He’s full of that fire when they let him loose, the fire all of them have, while also being obedient when he’s home. Great with all kinds of knives, though his shooting needs work. 

In response to Zsasz’s question, the puppy serves him his early dinner once Doc clears him to leave her domain, and takes a seat across from him.

“Are you okay, Mr. Zsasz?”

“I just need dinner and a shower and sleep,” Zsasz replies. He’s hungry, so he eats for a few minutes before saying any more. He gets hungry while out and about sometimes, enough to raid the kitchens of targets when he’s in their homes anyway. Why not? 

The puppy sits quietly. He has some flour in his brown hair. When Zsasz starts talking, he takes in every word. 

“Right, that should do it, I’m gonna shower and go to bed.”

“What some help, Mr. Zsasz?” The puppy tilts his head (seriously, this one has embraced the label like hell, and it’ll serve him well when convincing people to lower their guard). “Or...company?”

It’s not required of the puppies to provide sex, and Zsasz once slashed up a former resident of the house in the junk for acting otherwise, but some of them get lonely or succumb to the hotness of several of the assassins. That’s fine. Anyone here can have sex with anyone else here, whatever, as long as they aren’t assholes about it. If they want to have sex with outsiders, that’s okay too, but they can’t bring them back here and they can’t prioritize them over the House of Zsasz. Candy's into all genders but not into him specifically. Doc and Teeth won’t have sex with guys and Leonara won’t have sex with girls. Yoona won’t have sex with people who won’t let her smack them around, though she only smacks them around to the precise degree she has permission to. Jesús will try anything once but seems to take it or leave it, like an occasional hobby, and has been known to stop halfway through when he gets a cool idea for tricking out his car. Whatever. If Zsasz had to choose, he'd go with just girls, but guess what? He doesn't have to, especially if the puppy's flinging himself at him. On a day other than today, though.

“I’m not in top fucking condition,” Zsasz says, then laughs at his own wordplay. “It was a nice offer. Get the blood out of my pants. I like those pants. Where are the others? Besides Yoona and Doc?”

“Last I heard, Candy saw a sale on leather coats, pants, and boots." Candy wasn't a dumb blonde in the slightest. Case in point, she knew an opportunity when she saw one. "Jesús and Teeth are doing a hit on some department store manager. They didn’t tell me why anyone wants a department store manager dead. Leonara spent most of today upstairs. I heard the TV.”

One of their own, Jane, died six days ago. She was killed instantly by a shot from Butch Gilzean when they were coming for his employer. They’d all grieved for the first day or two and buried her body with honor, but most of them accepted that this was the sort of life they all lived, and she was lucky to have died among her family, doing what she loved. Leonara, though, adored her like a sister, and had been right behind her when Zsasz confirmed she was dead. She accompanied Zsasz on a job two days ago and had been severely off her game. Zsasz told her to take a few days off before she cracked on them.

“Maybe I’ll go say hi,” Zsaz says. 

“Hi, boss,” Leonara says from behind him. “Want any help going up the stairs?”

Zsasz makes sure to kiss her before they go. No passion, just saying hi. He’s not angry at her for feeling so severely, even it's foreign to how he himself ticks. He knows she’s a professional and will dust herself off and carry on, like she did after she caught pneumonia and Doc made her rest for a week.

Leonara supports him with all the statuesque strength he first noticed in her years ago, back when she had an Afro and he sometimes drew on eyebrows. As they walk, she says, “I went to the sub-basement to feed Gilzean, since the puppy’s not allowed there. Gave him all the drugs you said. I didn’t kick him, even though I wanted to.” The magenta dye in her hair is the only bright and lively thing about her right now.

“Thank you. I’ll have to postpone my work on him until tomorrow, unfortunately.” Zsasz feels a bit chilly. A hot shower will help. 

Leonara reminds him to wrap up the bandage Doc wound around his leg. He makes use of the stool they put in the shower because of the shower-ers sometimes being exhausted. He notes a little patch of hair that has managed to grow on his otherwise smooth chest, which he'll shave off soon for consistency. The people he’s gathered around him aren't shitty about his alopecia, not like it used to be before he _dealt with_ everyone who'd picked on the bald kid. 

When he finally gets into bed, Leonara climbs in next to him. “Doc says no sex allowed tonight, but can I stay?”

“Yeah.” He still feels chilly, and she's warm. At some point the puppy wanders in, wearing just his underwear, and asks to join. Leonara doesn't like arms around her in her sleep. Zsasz motions him over and holds him tight. He's warm, too, and he nestles in and pulls the blanket closely around both himself and Zsasz.

As soon as he's cleared, he’ll add to his kill tally. This is part of a different tally, though, one he can add to right now. One he'll never show, one with no physical manifestation. No knife needed. Just times like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I thought it'd be interesting to give my interpretation of Zsasz his actor's autoimmune disorder. Anthony Carrigan has done some great interviews of how he's come to embrace his alopecia and be positive about his body.
> 
> Want more from me? Maybe something original from me? I've got a queerer-than-the-summary-reveals published urban fantasy novel: [ Available as ebook and print form on Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DSLT3D2/ref=mp_s_a_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1529183871&sr=8-2&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=Donaya+Haymond&dpPl=1&dpID=51cFXjiasBL&ref=plSrch), and in [print from the Barnes & Noble site.](https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seasons-turning-donaya-haymond/1129067787?ean=9780999202654)


End file.
